Skinned Bodies & Jam Eating Serial Killers
by Doubliette
Summary: Very short story involving Beyond Birthday. Not my idea to post it. Rated M for violence...


Beyond Birthday, also known as B, is human. Humans such as B have needs and preferences for living; food, water, basic hygiene, electricity, and luxury items. These items cost money, and to get money you need a job.

B's job is serial killing. Unfortunately, it does not pay very well. (B finds stealing distasteful.) B enjoys playing with his victims before finishing them off, but body disposal is _so_ much effort. (If the product of the body is unrecognizable as human, who will know?) B is also a leather-maker. This way, he can have all the...fun...with his victims he wants, yet still make

Tonight, as B holds a chloroform doused washcloth and a jar of strawberry jam close to his chest, he scopes out a new playmate. He's looking for a skinny, tall male. One of B's best customers wears a size zero. What was his name...Yellow? Mellow? It doesn't matter. What matters is that he ordered the full ensemble of vest, pants, and gloves, which racks up a fairly high price.

B sighs from his position in the alley. Nearly nobody was in the area. Except that one shopkeeper in the empty book store across the street...Yes, he would do nicely. B creeps into the store, being careful to hold the cloth by his side, away from the eyes of the cashier. He places a finger into the jam, swirling it around, and places it in his mouth. B steps closer as the teen bends over to pick up a fallen book. He quickly places the cloth over his victim's face, ignoring the startled cry...B picks him up, bridal style, and makes his way back to his warehouse.

* * *

Brian is first aware of an immense pounding in his head. He cracks his eyes open, only to be greeted with blindingly bright light. He moves his hand up to shield his eyes...or tries to. He cranes his neck to see that his arms, legs, and torso are bound to a smooth black table. As he glances around the room, it appears he is in a windowless concrete room. Brian struggles to bring back any memories that could explain his predicament. Oh yeah, that sweet smell at the book store...

As he begins to realize what happened, a heavy looking door opens. A small man with black hair and raccoon eyes walks in. He also has something red smeared on his chin...You see he is holding a small toolbox and wearing surgeon gloves. From the horror novels Ben has read, this can't be good...

"Hello. I am B. It is time to start.", B says to Ben.

Brian tries to reply, but his words are soundless. He runs your tongue along your teeth. Nothing out of order there. He looks at B and widens his eyes.

"Oh, yes. I find it necessary to cut out the vocal cords of my projects. I have them. In a jar. Pickled.", the maniac grins.

B sets the tool box at the end of the table, above Brian's head. He removes a scalpel and what looks like elongated thumbtacks. As he steps towards you, Ben catches a whiff of...strawberries?

"I am going to remove your spleen. It's located near your stomach, behind it in fact."

Brian feels incredibly sick. He watches as he delicately makes a cut on Ben's abdomen, curving to the left down. But B doesn't stop there. He then makes the cut longer, up the chest, curving up diagonally and stopping at the collarbone. He picks up the over sized thumbtack in one hand, and peels the skin back, sticks it through the area over the stomach, and sticks it straight into the back of Brian's elbow, to hold it back.. Brian is in an excruciating amount of pain at the moment. To him, it feels like the left side of his torso is on fire. At this point, Brian is panting and wincing.

B takes the scalpel and cuts your spleen out. Ben can't tell what it is, even though he had test on human anatomy last week. The pain is unbearable, and he can see his vision going blurry around the edges...As Brian passes out, he still has the image of B maniacally laughing with strawberries dancing circles in his head...

* * *

B grins as he watches Brian Berkowitz's eyes slip shut. He hadn't had even one of his toys stay awake throughout their time together. Oh well, this one wasn't as much fun, anyways. He had wanted to dissect him, but he needed to get some money in, and you can't ruin the skin for that. Besides, he didn't have a spleen in his collection, nor a pair of hazel eyes like Ben's.

B carefully makes the vest, being sure to cut exactly in the right spot and make button holes. B usually uses the leftover back legs skin of the other victims to complete pants, because knees are just so unpleasant. The forearm skin was thick and did the job nicely. Gloves were the most difficult, because the only good part of the hand was the top. The skin on the wrist was thin and is used for the fingers and palm.

B lifts Ben's almost skinned body and places it in a room empty of everything except a single fan. B lifts a small gasoline container and pours it over Ben. He takes a Bic lighter out of his pocket and touches Ben's fingers to it for a few seconds. Ben is still alive, as B didn't take any major organs from him...B steps back and watches Ben's body burst into flames as he switches the fan on. Just another body.

The L look-alike takes all the skins to the roof to lay them out, cup of brains in hand. He opens the can and smears it on the smooth skins, making sure to cover every inch. B places them in the large basin of water kept up here for this exact purpose. B looks at the sky, and deducts that it is noon. He walks back to his plain room and crawls into bed. It's been a long twelve hours, and he had _all_ that sewing to do tomorrow...

* * *


End file.
